Chapter 2: The Gilded Cage

LYRA

The first thing I noticed was his smell — pine, cold night air, and something metal and wild in the back of my throat. It was the smell of my defeat. It was his.

"Behold, little wolf. Shadowfen will be your new home. It's nothing like the ruins of the place you lost."

He bent forward and whispered very softly, just to me, against my ear. I did not look at him. I maintained my stare on the dark fortress before us. "A prison is a prison no matter what you call it. And I am not your 'little wolf.'"

He emitted a harsh, humorless laugh and spurred his big horse closer until his leg brushed mine. Heat scorched me, painful and unwelcome. "Oh, but you are. You just don't know it yet. You carry the scent of my victory on you now. And it intoxicates."

His eyes were heavy, crawling over me like a rough caress. I flinched, my skin warming where his gaze lingered. "You're a monster."

"I am an Alpha. And you are my prize. Learn the difference. It will make your life here much easier."

The courtyard rang with the howls of wolves and screeching metal, and before I was able to get my footing on the cobblestones, a guard yanked me off the horse, his expression twisting in a grimace as pain cut through my shoulder.

"Move it. The Alpha has quarters prepared for you."

The guard's grip dug into my aching arm, but Kael's tone sliced through the noise, icy and commanding. "Easy, Torvin. I told you to keep her contained, not hurt. Her room has a good view, and it would be a pity if she were too bruised to appreciate it."

The guard's grip loosened at once, fear in his eyes, as he led me through cold stone corridors to a solid oak door which creaked open and crashed behind me with a loud bang, the lock snapping into place andI was alone.

I grasped the handle, pulling until my arm throbbed, but it would not move. I searched the room… a travesty of luxury with silk sheets, fire blazing in the hearth, and a silver platter full of fruit. Then I saw the window, its glass covered by thick iron bars that framed only a sliver of twilight.

“A cage is always a cage," I breathed into the quiet, my voice shaking with rage burning hot inside me.

Later there was a gentle tap, then a turning of a key. A girl around my age or so entered, carrying a tray of food and a basin of steaming water. She looked down, little and timid.

"The Alpha said you must eat and tend your wounds." Her tone was soft, barely above a whisper.

I turned on her, fury aimed at someone else. "Did he? Does he tell you to breathe too? I want nothing that comes from his hands.”

I snarled in rage and ripped the tray out of her hands. It crashed to the stone floor, food flying everywhere, water splashing on the hearth. The girl flinched but did not shift. She only looked at the mess, her body shaking.

"Get out! Tell your Alpha his prisoner would rather die!”

She looked up, and I realized the fear in her eyes wasn't for me… it was because of me. "Please, miss. Please, no. You have to eat. You have to let me fix that cut on your arm."

"I said no. This has nothing to do with you."

Her voice fell to a whisper. "It matters to me. He instructed me to ensure that you are cared for. If he returns and finds you still injured or famished. He will be displeased. With me."

I froze as the meaning landed, ill and cold. "He would punish you? For my actions? For my defiance?

She didn't answer, gave only a quick, shaking head nod and quickly set about cleaning up the mess. Her hands shook so hard she fumbled and dropped a bit of bread twice. "He is strict. But he is fair. He protects his own. It is my duty to care for what is the Alpha's. Please… let me do my duty."

She set a slice of bread and a glass of water on the table and then hurried off. The lock clicked, trapping me with her words. What is the Alpha's. I scowled at the bread, my stomach twisted. Fair. The word resounded in my mind like a sick joke.

Time dragged. I paced the room from end to end, ignoring the gnaw of hunger in my stomach, holding only rage. Then the lock turned again.

This time the air disappeared. Kael stood in the doorway, his presence heavy and stifling. His gray eyes scanned the room, resting on the untouched food before settling on me. Something dark danced in their depths.

"Starving won't do you any good," he said to me. "And it makes you look weak."

I spat in his face. "I'd rather die than take anything from you. I'd rather die here than be your possession."

He came into the room in long, predatory strides, covering the space between us. He arrived at the table, his back to me, calm and commanding. "That is what you do not understand, little wolf. Your life and death are no longer yours to determine. They are mine."

He turned, holding a piece of bread between his fingers. He approached me, and that vile pull I hated made it hard to breathe. He extended the bread. "Eat."

My jaw was clenched. "No."

His face stiffened. The silence that followed was heavier than screaming. His rage was so fierce I could feel it against my skin. "That wasn't a request."

He closed the distance in a blink. His other hand came up, not to hit, but to wrap around my jaw in a feigned coarseness. His thumb brushed over my cheek like a caress, but his hold was unyielding, forcing me to look up into his eyes. We were barely inches apart. I could sense the heat of his skin, smell the pine and night air on his body. My heart raced, trapped in my chest.

He forced the bread against my lips but I clenched my teeth, a tear cutting through the grime on my cheek. I fought but it was useless… he didn't move. A tense, wordless struggle hung there between our faces as his eyes flashed into mine with possession, cruelty, and something that had nothing to do with hunger.

His voice dropped to a whisper, his breath against my lips and giving me an uncomfortable shiver of heat.

"Open your mouth, Lyra. Eat."